


And They Were ROOMMATES

by aerClassic



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (the texting is extremely minor dw), Abusive Relationship mention, Angst, College AU, Hope you like Soft Dom!Yeosang because he's here too, Kim Hongjoong is Sad and Tired, M/M, Texting, Yunho is a Brat (with a capital B), romcom tropes everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-03-26 13:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerClassic/pseuds/aerClassic
Summary: (oh my god they were roommates)





	And They Were ROOMMATES

**Author's Note:**

> various warnings because i was actually Serious Business about some things in this fic:  
> \- mental abuse and gaslighting mentions  
> \- vague references to physical violence (not sexual in nature dw)  
> \- apologies to those of you morally opposed to chatfic anything it is literally My Most Favorite Thing to write  
> \- also if your name just so happens to be Han Junghwa.....lmfao maybe skip this one bub

 

Song Mingi had been his best friend since the first day of high school when Yunho had smacked his forehead on a shoe locker door, which Mingi (unfortunately) witnessed, and laughed so hard he fell face first into the unforgiving linoleum. Yunho had been powerless in the face of Mingi’s adorable embarrassed giggling and ever since been head over heels for him. As far as he was concerned they were a match made in heaven, two idiots held together by shared humiliation against the world.

A fated match.

Written in the stars.

Soulmates, if you believed in them (Yunho absolutely did).

But fate is a fickle bitch and Mingi only ever showed interest in people that weren’t Yunho himself.

First it was the third year girl with big eyes and bigger heart, always bringing extra packets of tissues or bandages or a handful of dollars for the candy machine in case someone suffered a sugar low. They’d dated for six months wherein Yunho bemoaned his sexuality—and crush—but told himself to set aside his feelings because his best friend was happy. Then she’d graduated to an upperclassman that was as much of a bleeding heart as herself and that was that. Mingi was miserable for weeks but Yunho was selfishly glad he no longer had to compete with a girlfriend for the foreseeable future. After her was another girl who spent a lot of time at the local skatepark scraping her knees on failed skateboarding tricks. She lasted for only one week until Mingi bloodied his nose in a vain attempt at impressing her with his ‘skills’.

So began the neverending revolving door of girlfriends Yunho did his best not to resent on sight. It wasn’t their fault Yunho was a useless gay in love with his straight best friend. He’d just have to come to terms with living out the rest of his days as a sad bachelor.

That is until Mingi, in their last year of high school, nervously asks Yunho for advice about a younger hoobae on the basketball team that had been making eyes at him during practice. Gun to his head, if you asked Yunho how that conversation went he would be physically incapable of recalling anything—horror turning his mind blank. Holy fuck, Mingi was supposed to be _straight_ , this wasn’t _happening_.

Mingi and Basketball Boy™ sneak around until the end of their high school career, the two of them going their separate teary-eyed ways while Yunho glared jealous daggers into the back of their heads. 

 

**\------------------------**

 

Yunho finds out the hard way that being in love with your best friend and sharing an apartment together was simultaneously his best decision and the worst sort of torture.

On one hand Yunho had a front row seat to Mingi parading around their space in nothing but his underwear and a cold drink pressed to his neck during the hot summer months. His friend didn’t think twice about immediately dropping trou the instant he returned home from classes, an easygoing “I’m home” echoing from the entryway and the unmistakable sound of a belt whipping through well worn belt loops. It was great.

On the other hand Yunho was forced to take a lot of cold showers to compensate.

His first mistake was agreeing to the arrangement when they managed to get accepted into the same college. His second was confiding in one Choi San, student barista and professional Wooyoung wrangler.

San takes one look at him and says point blank, “You’re an idiot.”

“Don’t be mean,” Yunho pouts. “It wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t incapable of keeping his legs covered when it’s just us in the apartment but he’s, like, allergic to pants. I think I've taken four cold showers this week _alone_.”

“Like I said,” San rolls his eyes and steals a sip from Yunho’s frappe. “You’re an idiot. You knew what you were signing up for when you two went in on the apartment together last year. I don’t know how you’re just now realizing how screwed you are.”

Yunho grabs his stupidly expensive drink back away from San’s thieving hands.“I’m not screwed.”

“Dude, we know,” San leans back against the padded cafe chair, “Just go on a date and get him fucked out of your system for all our sakes.”

“San!” Yunho whispers, mortified. Several people at the nearby tables are giving the two of them disturbed glances.

“What? What do you want me to say?” His friend laughs. “You want my advice, you got my advice.”

Any response is cut off by Yunho’s phone lighting up with a message from Mingi that ominously reads, ‘ _we need to talk_ ’. It’s followed by a much less dire sounding, ‘ _also we’re out of pepper??? can you buy some on your way home?? im buying dinner btw 💸’_ so, while Yunho is nervously swallowing back panic, it probably just means Mingi needs feedback on his latest essay.

“That him now?”

“Yeah, I gotta head out,” Yunho slides his drink over. “You can have the rest of that, Mingi is waiting for me at home.”

He ignores the snarky whip cracking sounds San mimes behind his back.

 

**\------------------------**

 

Yunho stares gobsmacked at his roommate grinning at him from across their kitchen table.

“You’re what?”

“Going to spend a year studying abroad! I got the acceptance email this morning,” Mingi smiles wide spooning another mound of Chinese takeout onto Yunho’s plate. “And before you start freaking out about the apartment, I’ve already got someone who’s going to sublet my half until I come back, don’t worry.”

“Wh—” Yunho scrubs a hand down his face. “Since when have you been applying to study overseas? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Mingi shrugs, unconcerned as always. “It was actually kind of spur of the moment, but I was talking to Jongho—”

“The musclehead kid?”

“He’s not a kid, don’t be rude,” his best friend sniffs and Yunho spends a moment feeling like a heel. “Anyway, I was talking to Jongho and he told me about it. It sounded like fun so I applied and voilà!”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Mingi taps his chopsticks against the table. “It's not for another two months but I thought my best friend would at least be more excited for me. You’re making me feel bad here, Yunho.”

“Sorry it’s just...this is a lot to take in all at once.”

“I know but, hey, it’s just a year and then I’ll be back to pester you,” Mingi reaches over to hold his hand over their mound of orange chicken and carbs. Yunho wills away the blush threatening to take over before shaking off his grip. “Can’t leave my bestie alone forever.”

“Damn right.”

“So, you forgive me?”

“I guess,” Yunho mopes, stabs a piece of broccoli a tad more viciously than is probably necessary. “Tell me about the person taking over your half of the rent.”

Mingi visibly perks up and launches into a description of the unfortunate love story one of his music production hyungs—“He’s really cool, Yunho-yah! I think you two would get along great!”—along with the subsequent living situation fallout after the breakup. Yunho only half listens, too busy feeling sorry for himself to really care about someone else’s romance problems.

He doesn’t know it yet, and won’t for several more months, but not paying attention is his third mistake of the day.

 

**\------------------------**

 

Mingi introduces him to Kim Hongjoong, his future roommate, two days later when he drags Yunho to a rehearsal for a musical number the production department is hosting.

His friend makes a point to pull him aside before they enter the auditorium bustling with harried freshmen doing the work of much more laid back seniors—who are only laid back because it’s three in the afternoon and the third monster energy drink of the day has rendered their cardiovascular systems inert. “Listen, hyung is kind of awkward before you get to know him and he makes really, really bad jokes,” Mingi pauses to wave at one of the other students exiting, “Promise me you’ll laugh at them anyway.”

Yunho blinks. “What, why?”

“Because his breakup basically destroyed his self confidence and I've sworn everyone to a blood pact to try and bring it back up. That means laughing at his dad jokes,” Mingi cringes just the slightest bit, “There’s, uh, there’s a lot of puns.”

Yunho groans and digs his fingers harsh into Mingi’s side in revenge making his friend squeal. “I can’t believe you’re making me live with someone that makes dad jokes.”

“You’ll like him, you’ll see,” Mingi opens the door with a hushed, “Remember be nice!”

Yunho doesn’t need the reminder, thanks very much. Honestly, he’s not sure where this lack of trust is coming from since the only person he’s ever been rude to in his _life_ was Jongho and that was only because the little turd dropped a 10kg weight on his foot the first time they met.

He also took up a lot of Mingi’s free time that could be better spent cuddling with Yunho on their couch but that’s neither here nor there.

Mingi takes off running down the center aisle to jump on the back of a man wearing ugly board shorts and sandals. Fuck, he’s probably a total dudebro chad, Yunho pushes down the urge to grimace and puts on a brave face. “Hongjoong-hyungnim!” Mingi yells when he slams into the much smaller body.

The guy releases an ‘oof’ at the additional weight against his back and stumbles. “Ow, Mingi-yah, what did we say about yelling?”

“Save it for the bedroom or the recording studio.” Mingi tells him, leans his cheek against Hongjoong’s beanie covered head, and sways them together while Yunho chokes. “I brought my roommate so you can meet him.” Mingi waves him over, “Yunho, come say hi!”

Hongjoong finally turns around and Yunho comes face to face with a man that looks like he’s been through some shit. The circles under his eyes are so dark they resemble bruises, his nose an irritated flaky red—more than likely from constant nose blowing—and the dude is like _hella_ _pale_.

Hongjoong gifts him with a wan smile and holds out a hand. “Kim Hongjoong. You must be the amazing best friend Mingi never shuts up about.”

“Jeong Yunho,” They exchange a stilted handshake while Mingi preens. “I hope you didn’t listen to anything he said, it’s all lies.”

Hongjoong laughs and Mingi looks like Christmas has come early. _Disgusting_. “Not a word, I promise.”

“Hey!” Mingi scowls in mock offense. “When I offered up my apartment I didn’t know I’d be signing up for being roasted.”

“Sorry, sorry, ah—” Hongjoong gets distracted by a passing student jostling a heavy container of what look to be microphones. “Hey watch the equipment! That box costs more than your life!”

The terrorized freshman stops to carefully adjust the box into a better grip with a distressed, “Sorry, sunbaenim!”

“Oh my god,” Yunho snickers. “She looked like she was about to piss her pants.”

“Good,” Hongjoong groans and scrubs his hands down his face. “All these young people mishandling the sound equipment are going to send me to an early grave.”

“Want me to come help?” Mingi offers.

Hongjoong shakes his head and briefly pats the curve of Mingi’s waist. “Nah, I know you’ve only got a few weeks before you leave,” his future roommate shoots Yunho a small grin, “Go enjoy your free time with Yunho-ssi while you can.”

Alright. Okay. Even if he does turn out to be the worst kind of hyper masculine bro dude, Kim Hongjoong seems like good people. Yunho can appreciate a man that understands the bonds of friendship take priority over doing hard labor.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure, don’t worry about it,” Hongjoong ducks under Mingi’s arms to start scooting him back towards the entrance. “Oh by the way, I’ll have to get Seonghwa to text you my new number later. Text him about it if I forget.”

In all the years Yunho has known him, Mingi has only ever gotten really, truly, frightfully angry less than a handful of times. Once at a wannabe gangster teen that had tried to steal the sandwich out of a homeless man’s mouth. That incident ended with Mingi sporting a split lip and ripped shirt, but the teenager had to be shipped off to a local hospital to fix a broken wrist and possible concussion. No bystanders ended up giving a report about the incident—because the boy was a known nuisance the locals were ready to be rid of—and the parents declined to press charges.

The thunderous expression on Mingi’s face as he turns to grip Hongjoong’s shoulders reminds Yunho of that day.

“Did he take your fucking phone too?”

“Ah, I just needed a new number and—” Hongjoong stops, shakes his head. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. Get out of here and go have fun!”

Yunho watches them have some kind of silent conversation with just their eyes before Mingi finally gives in with a heaving sigh.

“Fine, but if I don’t hear from Seonghwa or Yeosang by the end of the day I’m going to come busting their door down.” Mingi glares down at Hongjoong who just laughs—“Yes, yes, now _go away_ ”—before Yunho decides to just grab his arm and frog march Mingi out of the auditorium.

When the doors finally click shut behind them and they’re two twists of the corridor away, Mingi turns and kicks angrily at the hard concrete walls before dropping to the floor howling in pain.

Yunho nearly jumps out of his skin, “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Sorry it’s just,” Mingi whimpers at his abused toes. “Hyung is putting up with so much shit and he won’t let anybody do anything. I hate it.”

“You can’t fight everybody’s battles for them, Mingi-yah,” Yunho rubs at the defeated slump of his best friend's back.

“I know,” Mingi sniffs and grabs his hand to slide their fingers together. Yunho can’t stop the rush of blood to his cheeks but Mingi is too busy pouting at his sneaker to notice so it’s fine. “Can we go get ice cream?”

“Sure.”

 

**\------------------------**

 

The two months leading up to Mingi’s departure are spent getting shitfaced every other weekend during farewell parties and stacking moving boxes to move into storage while nursing killer hangovers. Yunho also gets Hongjoong’s number, hangs out with him a few times with his friends—Park Seonghwa and his boyfriend Kang Yeosang—who have been hosting Hongjoong on their couch. True to form, Hongjoong sends him a bunch of ‘punny jokes’ he finds on the internet and Yunho, god help him, actually _laughs_ at a vast majority of them. It gives Yunho hope that sharing the same space together won’t be so bad.

The day before Mingi’s flight, Yunho refuses to leave his side for more than a minute—“I’m soaking up as much Mingi time as I can before you leave me to die alone”—until San, along with Wooyoung and Jongho, bully themselves into the apartment with armloads of tequila.

San declares they have to do body shots, because “it’s not a send off unless someone has salt on their nipples”. Yunho is pretty sure it’s a thinly veiled excuse to get Wooyoung shirtless but he goes with it since Mingi enthusiastically (read: drunkenly) whips his own shirt off so Jongho can suck alcohol from his navel. They all take turns being the sacrifice and Yunho sends a silent thank you to god and also jesus when Mingi bites at the lime in Yunho’s mouth just close enough that their lips brush, a barely there whisper of pressure before Mingi is gone and hooting in victory for not throwing up.

At the airport, just before the impending departure time, the whole group of them—Yunho, San, Wooyoung, Jongho, Hongjoong, Mingi—are a trembling, snotty _mess._ Jongho puts on a stoic front but as soon as anyone stopped looking at him his chin crumpled. He finally gives up the pretense when Mingi grips at the sturdy line of his shoulders to whisper something—a secret—into the space just beside his ear. They don’t actually say anything but Jongho nods, just once but fiercely, and Mingi moves down the line as the clock ticks down.

“San-ie, don’t let Wooyoung do anything stupid. Same goes to you, Wooyoung-ie, unless you’re together in which case it’s fine.” The three of them embrace as a group and Mingi continues.

“Hongjoong-hyung,” Mingi wavers before collapsing against him. Hongjoong is so small in comparison to Mingi, Yunho swears he gets swallowed whole. “Hongjoong-hyungnim,” Mingi hitches out and starts sobbing uncontrollably. “You have to take care of yourself and Yunho for me.”

For his part, Hongjoong clutches him just as hard and only chokes once on a cry. “Of course, of course.”

Yunho gets the same treatment as Hongjoong, only he doesn’t even bother trying to swallow back the grief—a year! A whole ass year without his best friend! The love of his life!—and they cry like overgrown children until the intercom announces Mingi’s flight is now boarding. Yunho gently wipes away the tears and the snot— _ugh_ —on Mingi’s face with the edge of one sleeve. “Go on then, Mr. America.”

Mingi leaves.

Hongjoong is the only one who stays behind with Yunho to watch his plane takeoff until it’s a tiny almost invisible spec on the horizon. His hyung squeezes gently at his elbow as Yunho’s breath hitches and opens his arms when Yunho finally gives in to the ache of the hollow place Mingi leaves in his absence.

Hongjoong is sturdier than he looks, accepts Yunho’s weight like it’s nothing. They stay entwined together for only a minute before Hongjoong leads them to one of the restrooms so Yunho can be away from the public eye and at least be able to wipe his face.

His now roommate quietly dabs at the tears still trickling off Yunho’s chin. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I—” Yunho takes the wad of tissue from him and wipes his face. “Sorry, this is going to be longest we’ve been away from each other in years and it’s just hitting me really hard.”

“You don’t have to make excuses, Yunho-ssi,” Hongjoong smiles at him. “Loving someone going far away is hard.”

Yunho freezes, legs going tight with the barely repressed urge to flee the bathroom. “What?”

“What what? You being in love with Mingi?”

How in the everloving fucking fuck—

“Oh no, was I not supposed to say anything?” Hongjoong bites his lip and wrings his hands together in obvious worry. “I’m sorry I won’t mention it again. I just thought—”

“N-no, it’s okay, I am, um—” Yunho coughs against the lump in his throat, “I am... _that_. I just didn’t think you _knew_ , kind of shocked me.”

“Oh.” His hyung cringes.

“Don’t worry about it, hyung. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Of course it matters,” Hongjoong glares up at him much to Yunho’s astonishment. “Your feelings matter, never tell yourself otherwise.”

“I...alright.”

Hongjoong nods, satisfied. “Good.”

They leave the airport bathroom, Hongjoong letting Yunho borrow an oversized face mask to cover the absolute devastation of Yunho’s ruddy cheeks and nose. He expects Hongjoong to follow him back to the apartment to get settled in but to his surprise Hongjoong texts Seonghwa to come pick him up instead.

The question must be stamped across his face because Hongjoong takes one look at him and laughs. “I figured you could use a few days to yourself before I invade your personal space. Mingi already gave me a key,” He swings the familiar blue fob Mingi always kept his key on. “Let me know when you’re ready, Yunho-ssi.”

That’s...unexpectedly kind from someone he barely knows. Yunho grabs Hongjoong’s sleeve before he gets into Seonghwa’s ridiculously expensive looking oversized sedan. “Just call me Yunho, hyung.”

Hongjoong smiles back at him. “Yunho-yah then,” and disappears behind a blacked out window.

 

**\------------------------**

 

Yunho takes a few days to himself like Hongjoong suggested. By which he means he mopes like a Victorian maiden in mourning on Mingi’s mattress and also jerks off in the living room until his dick hurts because he’s always wanted to watch porn on their big screen television. By day four the novelty wears off so he texts Hongjoong the all clear and hoses down the couch with Febreeze.

Hongjoong shows up two days later, bless him, with exactly two boxes of clothes and one computer bag full to bursting with wires Yunho could not even begin to the guess the use of.

Yunho unknowingly makes his fourth mistake by asking, “Is that all you’ve got?”

Hongjoong averts his eyes when he nods. “Yeah, I had to get out of my last place in a hurry and ah,” he goes crimson. “I didn’t exactly get to grab very much. Seonghwa-hyung and Yeosang actually bought a lot of this for me.”

“Oh, sorry, forget I mentioned it,” Yunho mentally kicks himself. Holy hell, foot meet mouth.

Hongjoong shakes his head all smiles. In the time they’d been texting and periodically hanging out, the dark circles had slowly faded to nothing. Yunho got to see first hand the triumphant return of Happy Hongjoong who Mingi liked to fawn over while tipsy (“He’s so pretty, Yunho! Jongho, Jongho-yah, tell Yunho how pretty Hongjoong-hyung is when he’s happy!” Jongho had blinked once and off kilter, thanks to a heavy helping of soju, to say seriously, “Very”). “Don’t worry about it, Yunho-yah. Want to help me setup a bunch of recording equipment?” Hongjoong waggles his eyebrows.

Yunho laughs, relieved. “Sure, but only if you treat me to dinner.”

“Brat,” Hongjoong barely taps the tip of one sock clad toe into Yunho’s thigh. Everything he does is so soft and slow it’s like he’s living, breathing tiny font.

It’s not a no though, so Yunho trots after him to help untangle what feels like twelve thousand cords. Hongjoong eventually makes him T-pose in the middle of the room so he can drape the finally tangle free cords on his arms.

“I feel like this is maybe worth two dinners, hyung,” Yunho tells him when Hongjoong loops another wire around his head like a shitty crown, snickering.

“Yeah, probably,” Hongjoong continues to giggle until Yunho is covered in power cords. It’s only when he whips his phone out to sneak a picture that Yunho squawks indignantly.

“Hey!”

Hongjoong falls to the ground laughing so Yunho lets his arms drop—along with the cascade of wires—to pout at him. “I’m sorry, it’s just,” Hongjoong giggles, “It’s just you were letting me do whatever I wanted like an obedient puppy, I couldn’t resist.”

“Whatever,” Yunho finally gives in and rolls himself down to lay on Hongjoong’s back and tickles his fingers into his hyung’s ribs as revenge.

“Yunho! Yah, stop!” Hongjoong kicks his feet in a vain attempt at escaping Yunho’s fingers.

Yunho grins while Hongjoong tries to wriggle away, “Say ‘uncle’ first.”

“Uncle!”

“Wuss,” Yunho stops and they sit there on the floor of Mingi’s sad, empty room until Hongjoong pats his thigh after finally catching his breath.

“What do you want for lunch? I’m kind of in the mood for chicken.”

“Chicken sounds good,” Yunho closes his eyes against the burn of the overhead light. “There are coupons on the fridge.”

Hongjoong ruffles a hand through Yunho’s hair on his way out to place an order.

This isn’t so bad. He’s no Mingi but at least Hongjoong doesn’t shy away from Yunho’s absolute Need for physical affection so that's a plus.

Maybe this year will go by quick.

 

**\------------------------**

 

Living with Hongjoong is easy. Easier than Yunho expected considering they’ve only known each other for such a short amount of time. He still aches for Mingi like a missing limb but the nightly skype calls—morning for Mingi so he gets to witness the familiar impressive bedhead before Mingi works up the energy to get to class—help to ease the lingering pain. Yunho feels proud that they’ve progressed to crying on every _other_ call instead of the nightly blubber sessions that Hongjoong usually has to cuddle out of him.

Hongjoong mostly works on a totally different schedule than Yunho, getting up at ungodly hours of the morning and stays at the university until late most nights. Yunho only knows he’s around by the diminishing milk in the fridge and the tiny sticky notes Hongjoong likes to pin around the apartment.

Notes like: “Went to the store, we were out of ramyun” or "hey we're almost out of tp can you grab some on the way home? left some money on the counter for you<3" or “What did the buffalo say when his son went off to college? Bison.ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

That last one makes Yunho bring up the groupchat San had created before Mingi left.

 

**Sad Bitches Anonymous**

**oyouknow🐻** : someone tell hongjoong hyung he’s not funny  
**oyouknow** 🐻: we are no longer on speaking terms  
**beatsbyj** : ???????!!!!!!!!! y?  
**oyouknow** 🐻: you know what you did  
**beatsbyj** : ))): no????  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : hongjoong is frowning i have been summoned  
**beatsbyj** : yunho is being mean hyung defend my honor  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : i gotchu bebe square up yunho you trick ass bitch (ง'̀-'́)ง  
**sandbar** : i’m curious what did hyung do  
**oyouknow** 🐻: bison  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : oh  
**sandbar** : oh  
**beatsbyj** : what? that one was funny!  
**oyouknow** 🐻: hyung.  
**beatsbyj** : ......

 

 

 **minki** : i thought it was funny hyungnim 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕 💕  
**sk8rboi** : no  
**parkWooyoung** : please dont encourage him mingi  
**beatsbyj** : screw yall im running away 

 

**\------------------------**

 

Yunho comes home one afternoon to find Hongjoong standing stock still in the middle of their living room. “Hyung?”

“Shh, don’t move!” Yunho freezes in place. “There’s a bigass spider staring at me, I’m afraid if I do anything it’s going to jump.”

Yunho cups a palm over his mouth to keep his laughter in check. “Oh my god, are you serious right now?”

Hongjoong glances at him—barely moves his head for the half second it takes—before resuming his staredown with the enemy. “See how funny you find it when you’re bitten without gaining any cool powers.” The spider is a small lump in the corner of their carpet, unmoving. “Unless you lose a limb to necrosis, I hear they’re doing cool things with bionics these days.”

Yunho rolls his eyes as he toes off his sneakers in the entryway. He grabs a house slipper and walks up, passing Hongjoong’s pale trembling form, to kill the intruder with a resounding ‘PLAP’!

“There. Happy now?”

“No,” Hongjoong goes so sheet white Yunho can almost see the veins in his face. His voice is barely above a whisper when he gasps out, “Babies.”

“What?”

“Babies, it had  _babies_ ,” Hongjoong says squeakily backing away. Yunho looks down to find his slipper starting to be overrun with tiny fast moving spots that can only be immature spiders crawling to find safety. It takes several seconds for him to parse what’s happening before he realizes he’s  _still holding the slipper._

After much screaming, a thorough hand washing, and Hongjoong wielding the vacuum cleaner like a weapon of the apocalypse, the two of them huddle close on the couch sipping juice boxes and twitching at any phantom crawling sensations.

 

**\------------------------**

 

They spend one weekend marathoning a bunch of old sci-fi movies beneath a blanket fort and sometime around 4AM on Sunday Hongjoong decides he wants to dye his hair to match the opera singer from 5th Element.

Yunho looks at him with his chin propped on the edge of a pillow. “Why?”

Hongjoong is giving the television crazy eyes. “It’s been a while since I’ve done anything with my hair,” he sighs dreamily at Bruce Willis getting progressively sweatier on screen. “And blue is pretty.”

Yunho, equally delirious, says, “I should dye mine mint or something.”

Hongjoong flails backwards to starfish against the puddled throw blankets. “Yes!”

The closest convenience store doesn’t open for another hour, so they finish the movie and huddle close to watch EXO fancams until Hongjoong starts crying over Kyungsoo.

“I don’t even know why I’m upset,” Hongjoong sniffs into Yunho’s neck, “He’s just so hot it’s not fair, I’m too gay for this.” His sucks in a trembling breath, then, “He just wants to be a farmer!” before clinging desperately to Yunho’s nightshirt.

Yunho coos and pets a hand through the short crop of Hongjoong’s hair. “It’s okay, hyung, we’ve all been there. Just let it out.”

The exhausted convenience store attendant doesn’t give the giggling pair of them a second glance as she bags their pile of bleach and dye. Yunho helps Hongjoong get the back of his head where he missed a patch with the bleach and Hongjoong helps get the mint in a hard to reach spot at the base of his skull. They fall into Yunho's bed two hours later, freshly blue and mint respectively, in a dead sleep.

The next day San takes one look at them behind the register at the coffee shop and claps a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Yeosang, who only just started working the morning shift with San, tells them, “You guys look like popsicles.”

“Thank you,” Yunho says, sarcastic.

“I think we look good,” Hongjoong pouts and throws a handful of napkins down at where San is crouching behind the counter. “Stop laughing, dickhead.”

San continues to laugh unheeded. Yeosang nudges him away from the register with his foot so he can at least ring up their triple shot americanos. “What made you guys decide to dye your hair together?”

“Bruce Willis,” Yunho replies immediately. Hongjoong nods enthusiastically beside him.

Yeosang’s eyebrows rise nearly to his hairline. “Bruce Willis?”

“Yes.”

“Why Bruce Willis?”

Hongjoong taps his credit card against the top of the register. “Not to rush you or anything, but I have class to get to and I need liquid courage.”

San finally makes his appearance wiping tears from his eyes. “I’m on it, hyung,” still chortling quietly to himself.

Yunho leans down to whisper into Hongjoong’s ear, “I think we should maybe consider getting new friends.”

Hongjoong hums back in agreement. “Count me in.”

 

**\------------------------**

 

The apartment is quiet when Yunho returns from his last evening class, whoever invented education after 6PM needed a swift kick in the jewels as far as Yunho was concerned. The idea was more than likely a demon’s innovation anyway.

He finds Hongjoong asleep, still somewhat upright against the couch, with hands curled protectively around his laptop. It’s kind of cute how easily the older boy tends to pass out if he stops moving for more than twenty minutes, but Yunho knows this particular siesta session is borne of too many hours spent obsessing over a track Hongjoong is going to be performing later that month in front of a crowd of his peers. He tiptoes as quietly as he can to try and carefully remove the laptop away from its precarious position in Hongjoong’s lap.

Just as he’s clicking it shut a safe distance away on the coffee table, Hongjoong snorts himself awake. “Wha—Oh, Yunho, hi, hey,” Yunho watches him rub at the corner of his eyes, “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Just got back,” He grins when Hongjoong yawns wide, obviously still blurry from sleep. “Go back to sleep, hyung, I was just making sure you didn’t drop all your precious work.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Hongjoong is quick to deny even as he sways like a sleepy kitten. “I was just...I was just thinking about stuff.”

“The only thing you were thinking about was the back of your eyelids,” Yunho tells him, dry. He takes it upon himself to grab Hongjoong’s legs to swing them to a more comfortable position and tugs him to lie flat against the cushions. “Go to sleep.”

“N—o,” Hongjoong yawns again, fingers reaching for his laptop. He misses the mark by several feet, Yunho snorts. “I still need to work, Yunho-yah please hand it back to me.”

Nothing for it, Yunho decides to do the next best thing and collapses down on top of his roommate. “Nope, I’m taking a nap. You can have it back when I wake up.”

“But my project—”

“Will be there in an hour when we wake up, go to sleep.”

“Yunho,” Hongjoong whines. “It’s really important, I can’t just go to sleep.”

Yunho tucks his arms more securely around Hongjoong’s waist and cages his bottom half with a leg slung over Hongjoong’s kneecaps. “I know for a fact you have plenty of songs already made, quit obsessing.” He flops a hand over Hongjoong’s mouth when he starts to protest again, “Hyung. Seriously just take an hour for yourself and _rest_. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

Yunho grimaces when Hongjoong licks his hand but doesn’t move it until the older boy rolls his eyes and, finally, nods his head in silent acquiescence. “Thank you,” Yunho wipes the spit on the edge of a cushion and snuggles his head down underneath Hongjoong’s chin letting the steady thrum of his heartbeat lull Yunho to dreamless sleep. He feels Hongjoong place a tender unthinking kiss to the crown of his head just before Yunho is totally pulled under.

They wake up sometime close to midnight. Hongjoong makes no mention of the puddle of drool staining his shirt, only cups a hand around Yunho’s cheek on his way to his actual bed.

They don’t talk about it but Hongjoong does leave a note with a simple “Thank you” stuck to Yunho’s door the next morning. 

(It's ruined by the next note, pasted securely to the front door with Anpanman washi tape that reads: "Want to hear a joke about a piece of paper? Never mind...it's _tear_ able!")

 

**\------------------------**

 

Of course, nothing can be so easy for so long. Everything comes to a head four months into Mingi’s decision to faff off to America (and one week since the great Couch Event), after countless Skype calls and even more pining behind Yunho’s closed bedroom door—he does not _cry_ , fuck _off,_ Jongho—the sticky humidity of typhoon season descends and brings with it the flying curse: Mosquitos. One actually manages get him through the back of his shirt just low enough that he can’t seem to reach.

Hongjoong, lounging on their couch with his earbuds in working on his latest project, finally takes mercy on him and calls Yunho over to try and scratch the itch for him.

“Here?”

“Lower,” Hongjoong moves his fingers almost but not quite where Yunho needs them. “Little bit to the right.” His nails finally catch on the stubborn spot and Yunho groans loud in satisfaction, “Right there, oh my god, that’s perfect.” His hyung makes a choked stuttering noise but continues his ministrations until Yunho shifts away. “Thanks, hyung. You’re the best.”

“Anytime,” Hongjoong smiles up at him behind his ginormous transparent grandpa glasses. His cheeks are beet red.

Yunho decides to lie down on the couch, wiggling until he can get his head situated in Hongjoong’s lap. His roommate lightly brushes Yunho's hair out of his eyes once he's finished getting comfortable. Probably a sign he needs to make an appointment with his hairdresser and _soon_. Hongjoong continues to fiddle with his bangs until Yunho looks up at him to ask, "Having fun?"

"Just trying to see what you'd look like if you actually showed off your forehead for once," Hongjoong laughs when Yunho sticks his tongue out.

"I look weird."

"Nah," Hongjoong grins, eyes crinkling softly behind his lenses. "You look good no matter what you do."

Oh.

 _Oh no_.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm. Hey, they came out with a new flavor of that cotton candy you like so much," Yunho stares as Hongjoong coughs nervously into a fist before reaching over to grab the cup of fluff from his stash of snacks on the coffee table "Try a piece."

Yunho accepts the treat when Hongjoong feeds him a dollop while a dark cloud slowly descends on his mood. He knows where this is leading and already feels the burden of having to reject someone weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Sitting Hongjoong down to tell him thanks but no thanks was going to be so awkward and they'd only just barely started really being friends with each other.

 

**\------------------------**

 

Yunho decides the best place to do this is neutral ground at the only on campus cafe—which is really just a sandwich shop parading itself as a ‘French Bistro’—that San or Yeosang or any number of their mutual friends doesn't work at. He sends Hongjoong a quick text to let him know he’s got some free time and to meet up and nervously waits for him to show up, fingers drumming so long and so loud some of the other students around him start giving him shitty looks.

He’s late.

Hongjoong finds him easily enough and scoots into the opposite side of the small booth across from Yunho. “Hey, sorry it took me so long. My last professor held me back to talk about my submissions for the next three classes.” Yunho gulps as Hongjoong unwinds his headphones from around his cellphone. “What’s up?”

“I—” Yunho stops, clears his throat, swallows a drink of water to help settle his nerves and wishes, wishes, _wishes_ it were something stronger. “I um, I wanted to talk about you actually.”

Hongjoong stops fiddling with his phone to squint at him. “Me? Did I forget to buy something again? I swear I meant to grab that shampoo you like last time I was out but it slipped my mind and—”

“It’s not about the shampoo!” Shit, hell. That came out way louder than Yunho meant it too. Hongjoong closes his mouth with an audible clack. “Sorry, that came out...way more aggressive than I meant it to.”

“That’s—I mean, that’s alright, I guess,” Hongjoong eyes him warily and loses just the slightest bit of color in his cheeks. “What’s the problem?”

Yunho swallows hard doing his best to ignore the tiny voice in the back of his mind telling him how much of an asshole he’s about to be. He already knows. “Look, I don’t want to be insensitive or anything, but I’ve noticed—I mean, it’s hard for me _not_ to notice at this point and I’m flattered, really,” Hongjoong seems to finally clue in on what Yunho is getting at and goes vibrantly,  _brilliantly_ red up to his hairline. He opens his mouth to say something but Yunho bulldozes on, “I like you as a friend but that’s all, I’m sorry. Also—”

“Yunho-ssi!” Hongjoong bursts out, finally. Yunho frowns at him, hurt. “Sorry I know we’re passed that but you wouldn’t shut up long enough to give me a chance to speak.” His hyung brings a hand up to hide his face and bites at the pout of his bottom lip. “I know you don’t like me like that which is why I wasn’t going to _say_ anything about it.” Hongjoong peeks between two fingers to give him the stink eye. “Thanks for that by the way.” Yunho benevolently ignores the knock of Hongjoong’s boot against his sneaker. “You’re one of my best friends, Yunho, I wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything.”

He’s glad to have cleared the air but Yunho, at least, has the decency to feel a little guilty by the experience. “I really am sorry, hyung.”

“Don’t be sorry for what you feel. Or I guess don’t feel in this case,” Hongjoong fingers tap a formless rhythm against his cheek. “Can we just forget this ever happened and go back to being friends?”

Yunho sighs with relief. “Already forgotten.”

“Good,” Hongjoong’s still red but he at least doesn’t look offended or anything anymore. Instead, he leans over to shove headphones into Yunho’s hands. “Now, listen to this and tell me what you think. I’ve got to choose three for the presentation next week but I can’t decide between this one and the one I made you listen to the other night.”

Life goes on.

 

**\------------------------**

 

It’s just after one in the morning when Hongjoong stumbles into the apartment, giggling. Yunho blinks awake to stare at his alarm clock and is just about to go out and yell about Hongjoong being inconsiderate when another voice echoes across the hall, “You have a roommate?”

There’s a giggle, obviously Hongjoong, along with a slurred, “‘S fine, he sleeps like a—like a rock,” he hiccups, “Jus’ be quiet ‘n it’ll be fi—ine.” He groans high pitched, “Fuck.”

There’s an agreeing noise along with the unmistakable sound of wet mouths connecting until Hongjoong finally gets his bedroom door closed, lock clicking loudly into place and the loud thump of bodies falling against the wood. Yunho covers his ears as best he can to blot out the sound of Hongjoong’s needy sighs but there’s only so much a mound of fluffy cotton and the thin drywall between their rooms can keep out. For the most part, whoever Hongjoong brought home tries to keep them quiet until they start _really_ going at it.

The broken moans Hongjoong lets out as he’s obviously fucked within an inch of his life into his—Mingi’s!—mattress go straight to Yunho’s dick. He resists all of maybe five minutes before guiltily reaching down to jerk himself off, biting his own pillowcase to drown out any noise he might make even though he knows they probably wouldn’t hear anything from the creaking of the bed frame alone. They finish not long after Yunho does and Yunho finds himself waiting to see if Hongjoong’s hookup is going to stay the night.

He doesn’t, thank god, only waiting fifteen minutes for the come down before the guy makes his excuses and leaves, door chime announcing his exit.

Yunho had spent the entirety of their afterglow becoming progressively angrier, either at himself or at Hongjoong he doesn’t know. He feels betrayed by Hongjoong because he didn’t even waste _one_ day after being rejected to hop into bed with the nearest willing body. When Mingi had dated girl after girl after boy, Yunho didn’t go and jump into bed with someone just to get him fucked out of his system—even though he _could —_and it leaves a nasty taste in his mouth.

Hongjoong stays home from his first class the next morning and makes Yunho french toast. Yunho wonders if it’s out of some misplaced guilt for keeping him awake or if he’s just feeling particularly house husband-y that morning.

The bashful downturn of Hongjoong’s eyes when they pass syrup across the table tells him all he needs to know.

They don’t talk about it.

 

**\------------------------**

 

**Sad Bitches Anonymous**

 

 **TheMostBeautifulMan™** : aaaayyy who’s that boy walking funny this morning 👀👀👀👀  
**sandbar** : wooyoung?  
**BIceps** : no  
**BIceps** : also gross TMI san hyung  
**sandbar** : it was my best guess  
**BIceps** : choke  
**sandbar** : nah, i think that’s yeosang’s department  
**sk8rboi** : it is but he meant hongjoong  
**beatsbyj** : can we maybe not go there today thanks  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : aw but hongjoong-ie~~~~ you’re supposed to tell me everything  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : im HURT  
**sk8rboi** : good  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**BIceps** : STOP THERE’S A CHILD PRESENT  
**sandbar** : what where?  
**BIceps** : ME  
**oyouknow** 🐻: im w jongho on this one lets talk abt something else  
**BIceps** : thank  
**oyouknow** 🐻: @parkWooyoung boi how you gonna take a dick the day before a dance recital  
**BIceps** : I  
**BIceps** : my expectations were low but holy fuck

 

**\------------------------**

 

Hongjoong is making frustrated noises behind the closed door of his room, so Yunho knocks to check in on him. “Hyung, everything okay?”

“No,” is the muffled reply. Yunho pushes the door open wide enough to see Hongjoong face down in a pile of his clothes haphazardly strung over the top of his bed with one leg in a pair of skinny jeans and one very naked leg kicked up against the wall. Yunho does his best to avoid looking at the tempting curve of his ass only just barely covered by a button down shirt.

“You putting on a one man fashion show in here or something?”

Hongjoong whimpers pathetically into the sheets. “I’m picking an outfit for my stage performance tonight but everything I put on just makes me look like a tryhard.”

Yunho pokes a pile of belts with a toe. “What kind of style are you going for exactly?”

“At this point?” Hongjoong shifts until he’s no longer suffocating himself. “Anything that says, ‘I’m a genuine rapper slash musical artist’ instead of ‘I joined the glee club in high school also here are my math wizard achievement awards’.”

Yunho covers his mouth so Hongjoong doesn’t spy the amused grin making camp there. “Did you actually join the glee club?”

“I’m gay as fuck and into music. What do you think, genius?”

“Did you,” Yunho wheezes, “Did you wear a suit with a little boutonnière and a bowtie and everything?”

“Shut up,” Hongjoong grouses and goes back to swinging his leg not trapped in a skinny jean stranglehold back and forth against the wall. Yunho vaguely keeps track of the movement until it dislodges the curve of Hongjoong’s shirt and flashes a scantily clad cheek. “Maybe I should borrow something from Yeosang. He’s got plenty of leather in his collection. Leather is cool, right?”

“I think,” Yunho walks over to pull the shirt back down over Hongjoong’s butt, “That you should quit worrying what other people assume about your outfit choices and wear what makes you happy.”

“You think so huh,” Hongjoong sighs.

“Yep,” Yunho picks up a pair of leggings with ripped sections showing off hidden fishnet. “Also these.”

Hongjoong starts laughing so hard he squeaks and Yunho basks in the smugness of a job well done. His hyung eventually hustles him out of the room so he can clean up his mess, leaving just enough of a gap so that Yunho knows he’s still welcome to intrude once the bulk is put away.

 

**\------------------------**

 

Yunho’s third and most egregious mistake comes back to haunt him at the tail end of Hongjoong’s solo performance.

Watching him confidently strut from one end of the stage to the next, Yunho forgets the whole reason Hongjoong is even living with him is because of a nasty breakup with some nebulous, shadow figure boyfriend no one is allowed to mention for fear of retribution raining down on them like holy hellfire via one very pissed, very overprotective Park Seonghwa. Well, it’s not that he forgot, _exactly_ , it’s just that he hadn’t paid any attention to Mingi explaining the whole sordid ordeal in the first place.

The college rents this bar out for student performances once every six months but it’s still a _bar_ and the caliber of people that come to spectate aren’t always the lot students want gawping at them. A table in the back is occupied by several older men giving the short skirts around them leering glances. Another table full to bursting with guys in polyester shirts posturing like peacocks in sad attempts at taking someone home.

Yunho sets up camp against the bar nursing a vodka cranberry while Jongho holds a camera as still as he can manage against the flow of bodies so they can all rewatch Hongjoong’s stage later. San and Yeosang—which meant Seonghwa too, if for nothing else than to be their chauffeur—were busy supporting Wooyoung’s dance group across town.

He’s busy tracking Hongjoong’s progress off the raised platform, waving at the screaming crowd, when Jongho goes rigid and the plastic of the tripod attached to the bottom of the camera audibly creaks. “Is that—?”

“What?” Yunho bends to try and see whatever is pissing Jongho off.

“That asshole, I can’t believe he’d show his face here.”

“Whose face is here?”

“Junghwa,” Jongho seethes. “Hongjoong-hyung’s piece of shit ex-boyfriend.”

Yunho is just about to ask what exactly the guy did to warrant such language when he spies Hongjoong staring straight at someone going visibly pale beneath the makeup they had meticulously applied not two hours before.

(“I look stupid,” Hongjoong had sulked, frowning down at the handheld mirror one of Yunho’s dance hoobae’s had lent them. “Tell me again why I thought the blue contacts were a good idea?”

Yunho grunted, tongue stuck between his teeth trying to concentrate on placing eyeshadow perfectly on one of Hongjoong’s eyelids. “Because they match your hair and it’s cool.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“Nah.” )

Before he really even realizes he’s moving, Yunho finds himself crowding into Hongjoong’s personal bubble with his arms around his hyung’s waist. “Oh honey, there you are! I was looking all over for you, I lost track of you after that last set,” He lands a wet kiss to the curve of one ear against the fifty million (read: 6) piercings. “Who’s this?”

The guy in front of them is tall—taller than Yunho which is kind of terrifying if he thinks about it too much, unused to the idea of someone else towering over him when he’s usually the tallest person in any given room—and wearing enough Drakkar Noir to make his nose burn. He’s objectively attractive, but the squinting glare that smacks of a superiority complex being directed at him sets Yunho’s teeth on edge.

“I’m Han Junghwa,” Douchenozzle McGee raises one well groomed eyebrow as if that’s all that needs to be said.

Yunho flutters his lashes, the very picture of innocence. “Sorry, who?”

“Hongjoong’s ex,” Fuckhead McGillicuddy goes back to making eyes at Hongjoong, who grips at Yunho’s elbow hard, almost to the point of pain, without so much as a peep. “The only good thing that will ever happen to him and he knows it.”

“Must not have been that good because I’ve never heard of you,” Yunho coos at Junghwa's grimacing face, “Sorry, we’ll have to catch up some other time! People see to see, babies to kiss, you know how it is,” He steers Hongjoong away, still bizarrely silent in his embrace.

It’s only when they’ve made it several feet away and out of earshot that Hongjoong finally speaks up.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Hongjoong murmurs quietly.  
  
“You looked like you were about to cry, of course I had to,” Yunho squeezes back when Hongjoong hugs his arm tighter against Yunho’s waist. “Hyung, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I will be.” His roommate smiles a heartrendingly pitiful grin that’s more grimace than anything, barely crinkling the skin beneath his eyes. “Thank you, Yunho.”

Yunho pouts at the tug on his heartstrings and sways them side to side until Hongjoong finally gives in and laughs. Better, Yunho preens smugly to himself. “Come on, hyung. You can buy me a drink as thanks.”

Hongjoong snorts but doesn’t pull away when Yunho leads him in the direction of the bar where Jongho is still seething.

 

**\------------------------**

 

“So you got to meet He Who Must Not Be Named,” Mingi’s voice carries over the tinny skype connection. “How’d that go?”

“It was alright, he didn’t like _do_ anything other than be a smug dickhole but,” Yunho shrugs as he works on a packet for a business course. “I dunno, I expected more shouting or something.”

Mingi is lounging in a face mask with his camera head aloft. The angle makes it look like he’s got a double chin and Yunho can’t look at him for fear of laughing until he cries from the visual. “Shouting isn’t Junghwa’s style. He’s one of those greasy snake in the grass types,” Mingi waves a hand vaguely next to his head. “Likes to say shit that makes you rethink your whole life or whatever.”

“Mmm, hot though.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately,” Mingi sighs and the connection goes crackling with the hiss of breath. “How has Hongjoong-hyung been taking it?”

“What seeing his ex? He’s fine, I think.” Yunho looks up from his worksheet to across the hall where Hongjoong’s door is open, lights off so more than likely finally getting some rest. “Hasn’t said much of anything about it.”

Mingi hums. “Keep an eye on him either way. I’m not going to get into the nitty gritty of their relationship but it was two years of bad news.”

Yunho presses his pencil down so hard against the paper the lead actually snaps off. “Two years?”

“Yeah. I told you that _months_ ago, did you forget?”

“It...must have slipped my mind.”

“Dumbass,” Mingi laughs affectionately, “Well, hey, has Jongho told you about the courses I’m taking?” His best friend immediately launches into a distracted retelling of the projects he’s been put in charge of with a handful of other exchange students. Yunho listens with half an ear, somehow too distracted by the darkened room to pay much attention at all.

 

**\------------------------**

 

Yunho had said goodbye to Mingi an hour ago and the complicated worksheet has sat unfinished in his lap for just as long. Two years. Two years with a guy that can say he was ‘the best thing to ever or will ever happen’ to someone with a straight face and _mean_ it. Hongjoong sure knew how to pick them.

He’s just about ready to fling his homework to the side in favor of—of—Yunho’s not sure, do _something_ , when he catches the sound of a low groan emanating from Hongjoong’s room. Yunho feels his blood slowly freeze in place before igniting into liquid fire.

Is he—with the door _open_?

No, because the next sound is a chanting, “No no no no no” that sounds excruciatingly painful, like the words are being torn out of Hongjoong’s throat by force. Yunho wastes no time in sprinting across the hall to shake Hongjoong awake, sweaty and grimacing beneath his comforter. “Hyung, hyung, wake up!”

Hongjoong gasps and springs upright, eyes crazed scanning the room for whatever nightmare is haunting him. “Y-Yunho?”

Yunho crouches down to hover awkwardly over his heels. “It’s me. You were having a nightmare.”

Hongjoong curls around to clench his knees tight to his chest. “I was—it was,” his breath hitches and Yunho watches in horror as his chin crumples, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Yunho has seen him cry twice—that first time when Mingi left and the hysterical laugh-crying over Kyungsoo from 4 A.M. delirium—but this is something else entirely. It’s horrible, for one, and for two it’s quiet. Nothing Hongjoong has done since Yunho met him has been _quiet_.

Yunho watches him tremble in silence for a long moment before pushing him over just enough so Yunho can squeeze into the space next to him and cuddle Hongjoong’s head tight against his shoulder. Hongjoong accepts the comfort and turns to fit himself so he can hide his face against Yunho’s chest. “Wanna talk about it?”

Hongjoong says nothing for a long time. Long enough that his body stops quaking and his fingers no longer spasm against the edge of Yunho’s shirt. “Did anyone,” Hongjoong stops to take a deep, shuddering breath. Yunho just cards a hand through the hair at the back of his nape, waiting. “Did anyone tell you what I had to do to leave Jun—my ex?”

Yunho shakes his head. Hongjoong sighs hard. Even that little breath sounds defeated and Yunho has sense enough to steel himself against whatever bombshell is about to get dropped on his head.

“He wasn’t a bad guy—I mean, he _was_ a bad guy I just didn’t know it yet—but when we first started dating it was fine. He was nice and he was good to me and that’s really all anyone wants, right?” Hongjoong reaches out to fiddle with the ring on Yunho’s finger. “Anyway, I moved in and things went south.”

“What did he do?” Yunho’s muscles coil tight. “Did he hit you?”

Hongjoong bursts out laughing. “Good fucking god, _no_. It would have been so much easier if he had, but no. No hitting, no aggression.”

“So then, what did he do?”

“He talked.” Hongjoong starts giggling at the look on his face, a tiny rasping sound against his sternum. “I know right? Dude has me so fucked up just because he can talk. Amazing!”

“Hyung.”

“Sorry, anyway he would make all these suggestions that didn’t really seem that weird at the time? Like we’d be out grocery shopping and he’d mention how much easier it would be if we only used one account,” Hongjoong snorts. “Or how we should share a phone plan. Or how maybe I should stop spending so much time in the studio when he was home. Maybe I shouldn’t be eating a certain food anymore because my cheeks were filling out. Little things.”

Yunho should have let Jongho go beat Han Junghwa’s stupid pretty face in.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He had control over literally everything I did. Need to buy something? Had to go through him first because he had control of both our accounts. Need to make a phone call? Better talk to him about it or else he’d see it on the bill and flip the fuck out at me.” Hongjoong deflates. “Everything I owned had to be okayed by him.”

Yunho’s heart stutters, stops, and breaks into a thousand shards. “My god, hyung.”

“I know.”

“How did you get out?”

“Seonghwa and Yeosang, thankfully. They’d been trying to get me to breakup with him for months but I was too afraid I’d lose everything if I did,” Hongjoong yawns, exhaustion and hurt working their magic. “I was sort of right. The only things I managed to grab when I finally ran away from him were my laptop and my studio equipment.”

“So when you said those two boxes were bought by Seonghwa-hyung and Yeosang—”

“They basically replaced my whole wardrobe, yeah.”

“Fuck,” Tears blur the edges of his vision until Yunho blinks and sends the drops rolling down his cheeks. “Hell.”

Hongjoong makes eye contact then, wincing at Yunho’s no doubt blotchy face, and wipes away the tears with his thumb. “It’s okay, I’m okay. Sometimes I dream about being trapped there in his apartment forever and—” He swallows, “You know. Thank you for waking me up.”

“Anytime,” Yunho sniffs, “Want to go watch a movie or something in my room?”

His hyung closes his eyes tight as he wipes his face with his shirt. “Yeah, alright. Nothing scary though.” Hongjoong holds out a pinky.

Yunho hooks his own around the digit in a sworn promise. “Nothing scary.”

 

**\------------------------**

 

Life continues to march onward. Classes remain the bane of Yunho’s existence, Hongjoong stops bringing home one night stands (thank _god_ ), and Mingi’s triumphant return home looms on the horizon.

Tonight though, Seonghwa and Yeosang have decided to finally grace Yunho’s apartment with their presence and also their really expensive booze. He’s not sure who the moneymaker is in that relationship but, considering the tiny paper label still stuck to the side of the bottle, someone is making _bank_.

Someone should also maybe take the alcohol away from the two oldest getting cozy on Yunho’s couch. Hongjoong has curled himself into Seonghwa’s arms, who looks like a doting mother cooing at her most favored child. He’s even making gross comments like, “My little kitten-witten Hongjoong-ie” and petting the line of Hongjoong’s back.

“Hyungni~m,” Hongjoong singsongs into Seonghwa’s chest while he tries to make a nest there like a baby bird. “You’re the best, have I told you you’re the best? Because you are. The best!”

Seonghwa ‘aww’s and feeds Yunho’s roommate another cherry from his empty Georgia Sunrise. Yunho nudges Yeosang who, up to this point, had been mostly silent playing some gatcha game on his phone. “Shouldn’t you be breaking this up?”

Yeosang doesn’t look up, “Why?”

“Uh, because your boyfriend is getting molested by his best friend,” Yunho bristles in irritation when he sees Seonghwa reaching out goose Hongjoong’s thighs as he goes to stand up and giggling like a schoolgirl. “Aren’t you jealous?”

"No," Yeosang eyes flicker up briefly and shrugs. “Hongjoong-hyung doesn’t let go very often. Let them have their fun.” A red ‘game over’ flashes across the screen and Yeosang finally pockets his phone. “Why, are _you_ jealous?”

“Wh—” Yunho coughs into his drink. “No!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Behind them, Hongjoong has disappeared into the kitchen—presumably to mix another drink—while Seonghwa whines on the couch needily. “Hongjoong-ie! I miss you!”  
  
The answering “I miss you too! Love you, hyung-ah!” and the girlish sigh from Seonghwa makes Yeosang almost lose his mind laughing. “You two are so _disgusting_.”

“We’re more disgusting,” Seonghwa blows him a kiss. Yeosang mimes catching it, throwing it to the ground, and crushes the invisible kiss under his foot. Seonghwa gasps dramatically, offended in the way only the completely inebriated seemed to manage. “Baby! How could you?”

“Easily.”

Yunho inches away while the two bicker at each other across the room to find Hongjoong sipping something monstrously pink and scrolling through his phone.

“Hey.”

His roommate fumbles with his phone for a second before looking up, cheeks flushed rose from the alcohol, “Oh Yunho! Hey, hi, hello,” Hongjoong squints one eyed down at his screen. “Can you judge a dick pic for me? This guy says he’s eight inches but this looks like four and I don’t want to get pegged by a pencil.”

Yunho inhales spit down the wrong pipe. “Oh my god, hyung,” He grabs Hongjoong’s phone away while his roommate pouts at him and, oh wow, that man is really trying to work his angles. “That is definitely not eight inches, but that’s beside the point,” Yunho sticks the phone in his own pocket. “Stop soliciting dick while you’re drunk. Did no one ever teach you how to be safe?”

“Pfft, fuck safe! I’m drunk and horny and hyung and Yeosang have been exclusive for a _year_.” Hongjoong sways into his personal space like he’s going to divulge government secrets. “Did you know Yeosang is a dom?”

Things Yunho suspected but did not need confirmed: this.

Yunho manfully tamps down the insane urge to start laughing because what the fuck. Though judging by the scene he just left of Seonghwa groveling at Yeosang’s feet for a speck of affection...yeah he can picture it. A horrifyingly crystal clear mental image.  “Did you know you should probably drink some water?”

“You think so?” Hongjoong yawns and snuggles himself into the space under Yunho’s chin because he is the neediest drunk Yunho has ever met.

Whatever, it’s fine. Yunho wraps his arms around Hongjoong’s waist, clasping his hands together at his back while Hongjoong started humming some song under his breath. He loses track of how long they stand there rocking gently in the middle of their messy kitchen but the tranquility is broken by Yeosang rapping his knuckles against the doorframe to tell them he’s taking his boyfriend home.

Hongjoong leans over just enough to give Seonghwa a once over and smirk, “Hyung-ah, your boner is showing.”

“Oh my _god,_  I _know_ ,” Seonghwa adjusts himself in his trousers, face horrifically red, “He stepped on me earlier, it can’t be helped.”

“Can you guys please go be degenerates somewhere else,” Yunho groans into the gap of Hongjoong’s sweater where his shoulder is half exposed, ignoring the teasing snicker in his ear and the nails scraping his back in apology. He can feel it when Hongjoong waves their guests away and knows they’re finally gone by the sound of the door chime. He only lets go of Hongjoong when his hyung pats at the arms around his waist. Yunho doesn’t go very far, just backs away far enough to rest his palms against Hongjoong’s belt loops.

“Alright, since you won’t let me solicit dick while I’m drunk, you get to come cuddle and watch a romcom with me.”

Hongjoong is still glassy-eyed but at least he’s stopped pouting like he’s ten seconds away from calling some guy up for a late night rendezvous. “Do I get any say in this at all?”

“Nope!” Hongjoong bounces on the tips of his toes excitedly. “I swear I won’t make you watch The Notebook though. Unless you want to.”

Yunho shrugs and goes easily enough when Hongjoong starts tugging him in the direction of their bedrooms. “If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.”

 

If someone had told him at the beginning of the year that Yunho would be standing in Mingi’s room—without Mingi actually being in it—staring down at a guy wearing a too big shirt and a pair of extremely dangerously high cut boxers, he would have laughed himself hoarse and also recommended them to a nearby shrink. As it is, all Yunho can do is gape like a fool at the exposure of so much Leg and say, “Is that my shirt?”

Hongjoong pauses pulling up Netflix on his laptop and finally takes notice of his choice of sleep clothes, “Oh, it might be. Guess it got mixed up in our laundry. I’ll give it back after I wash it, sorry.” He pats the space beside him. “Get over here and pick a movie.” Yunho almost thinks he’s sobered up completely until Hongjoong ruins it by hiccuping and flopping over dramatically on his side. “Don’t pick anything with Bruce Willis this time, we’re out of hair bleach.”

They end up unironically watching The Notebook. Hongjoong cries—of course he does—so they follow that up with an old Godzilla movie, mostly because Yunho doesn’t have the brain power to pay attention to any more plot tonight. It doesn’t matter much anyway since Hongjoong falls asleep after fifteen minutes, legs thrown over Yunho’s thighs and head drooped against his shoulder. Yunho doesn’t have the heart to move him so just curls his hands against the sturdy curve of one thigh and lets the warmth and the sound of a giant lizard screaming lull him to sleep tucked away in Hongjoong’s tiny bed.

In the morning, when Yunho wakes up to the soft light streaming down onto Hongjoong’s sleeping face—which isn’t pretty, like, at all, because he’s a mouth breather and the drool is a real problem—he has just enough time to think “Oh shit” before his heart does something totally unacceptable against his ribs.

 

**\------------------------**

 

It doesn’t occur to Yunho that he hasn’t obsessively checked in on Mingi until much later when he comes home to Hongjoong facetiming their shared friend and sniffling into a wad of tissues at the screen. “You need to come home, asshole. The studio isn’t as fun without my giant rapper pestering me every five minutes.” He jerks up when the door chime alerts Hongjoong to Yunho’s presence. “Oh, Yunho-yah! Come say hi to Mingi before he goes off to class.”

“Is that Yunho? Hi! How’s hyung treating you? He’s a good roommate right?”

The sight of Mingi’s smiling face behind those idiotic dad glasses doesn’t send his heart spiraling into his throat like it used to and Yunho feels a little off footed by the experience. “Wha—oh, yeah, yeah, hyung is great. Failed out of your classes yet?” Yunho teases. Mingi squawks indignantly back. Hongjoong laughs, wipes his face clean and gets up to give them some privacy. Yunho grabs his hand before he can get very far to give his fingers a thankful squeeze. Hongjoong squeezes back, lifts their joined hands to drop a tiny kiss to one knuckle before walking off to blow his nose.

Yunho doesn’t realize he’s staring at his disappearing back until Mingi clears his throat, face unbearably smug. “So. How _is_ living with Hongjoong-hyung?”

His cheeks feel hot. “It’s fine. He’s fine. Stop making that face it’s not what you think.”

“Uh huh, that’s not what Jongho has been telling me.”

“Mingi!” Yunho whines, in the background he hears the door to the bathroom close and the shower start. Probably to drown out the noise and give the two of them some privacy. “You know Choi Jongho cannot be trusted.”

On  screen Mingi purses his lips. “So you don’t ‘canoodle at any given opportunity’,” he finger quotes,  “You know you’ve got my blessing right? Hyung is awesome.”

“I know he is,” Yunho briefly glances back down the hall to make sure the shower is still running and sighs, “You don’t have to remind me. ”

“You going to do anything about it?”

“There’s nothing to do, we’re not like that.”

Mingi goes silent long enough that Yunho starts to fidget. “Are you sure?”

“I'm—”

He almost misses Hongjoong coming out of the shower, sweatpants slung low on his hips and still shirtless save for a towel curled around his shoulders. Mingi whistles at the sight, “Nice hyung! Finally deciding to show off those _nips_. Mm!”

Hongjoong makes a goofy face back and flings the towel to the side with flair to jut his chest out flamboyantly. “Like what you see, big boy?”

Mingi clutches at his chest. “Oh baby, give us a show.”

“Pervert,” Hongjoong laughs before exiting to the kitchen for something. Probably juice.

Yunho’s face must be doing something without his permission because Mingi starts laughing so hard he actually squeaks. He glares at his best friend. “Shut your fuck, it’s not what you think I _swear_.”

“Whatever you say man, I’ve got to get to class. Text me later, yeah?” They say their goodbyes before the screen goes black leaving Yunho still sitting on the floor reevaluating his life choices. Hongjoong comes out of the kitchen with a glass full of that disgusting peach lemonade Yunho can’t bring himself to outright ban from their fridge.

“Mingi go off to class?”

“Yeah,” Yunho says faintly.

Hongjoong pauses to fiddle with the edge of the glass. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, hyung,” Yunho says more aggressively than he meant to and Hongjoong flinches. He sighs, scrubs at his eyes. “Sorry it’s just...Mingi being Mingi.”

“Mmm,” Hongjoong stares off into the middle distance. “It must be hard to love somebody so far away.”

Yunho doesn’t have anything to say to that so he slumps against the edge of their coffee table and groans. He wishes that were his problem. Life was so much easier when that was his problem. Hongjoong hovers awkwardly next to him before quietly making his way back to his own room and closes the door gently, lock clicking into place with a final sounding ‘clack!’

It’s the first time in three months Hongjoong has shut him out completely.

 

**\------------------------**

**MountainPuppy4Eva**

**  
** 🐶 : i watched the notebook with hyung  
🐶 : wjksjfhelp  
⛰ : say no more i’ve got a lunch break in 15 min  
🐶 : 🥺 ty

 

**\------------------------**

 

“So you’re conflicted on what to do about Hongjoong-hyung while you think you’re still in love with Mingi?” San leans his chin against his fist. “Easy. Just date Hongjoong, he’s closest.”

Yunho scowls and stabs his salad with more force than necessary, “I’m not going to date someone just because they’re _convenient_.”

“But you do want to date him,” San crows, victorious.

“That’s not what I said!”

“Well that’s what I _heard_. Anyway, what’s the issue here? Afraid you’re going to lead him on?”

“No, I know I’m not. I already rejected him once,” Yunho wilts while San chokes on a bite of his sandwich.

“Excuse me, you did _what_?” Yunho nods. “Why?”

“Shhh, quiet!” Yunho casts a worried glance at the people giving them annoyed stares across the cafe. “It was before I really knew him and refused to look at anyone except for Mingi, don’t judge me.”

“Oh I am judging you so hard and you can’t stop me, buddyboy,” San scoots forward until they’re almost nose to nose. “You know he likes you and you’re being a chickenshit about it.”

Yunho pushes his face away. “He said he wanted to forget about it. And in any case,” Yunho glowers at the mound of romaine lettuce and cherry tomatoes, “He brought home a hookup that night so obviously it’s not that deep for him.”

San ‘ah’s in understanding. “I get it. So you wanted him to pine after you like you did for Mingi and got your feelings hurt when he didn’t.”

“No,” Yunho denies. San lifts an eyebrow at him. Yunho gives up, “Yes.”

“Okay, well at least I know what we’re working with,” San swallows his last mouthful. “We’re going to help you get your man.”

A frisson of fear crawls up the length of Yunho’s spine until it tingles to the root of his hair. “‘We’?”

 

****\------------------------** **

 

**YUNHO IS DUMB AND GAY SQUAD**

**sandbar has added oyouknow** **🐻 to the chat**

 **  
** **parkWooyoung** : wat  
**sandbar** : the day has come my friends  
**parkWooyoung** : WAT  
**oyouknow🐻** : wtf @ this gc name  
**sandbar** : yunho finally figured out he’s hot to trot for hongjoong-hyung  
**BIceps** : bout time jesus  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : aw just as i was going to invite him to be our third )))':  
**sk8rboi** : hyung not the time  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))':  
**parkWooyoung** : ...do i want to know  
**sandbar** : no baby  
**sandbar** : no you dont  
**BIceps** : *softly* what the fuck  
****oyouknow** 🐻**: im still highkey offended by this gc name  
**sandbar** : the truth hurts bitch  
**oyouknow** 🐻: blocked  
**sandbar** : wytff  
**oyouknow** 🐻: yall hear sumn?  👁👄👁  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : ...children please we’re supposed to be coming up with a plan to get hongjoong a man  
**oyouknow** 🐻: sorry hyung >:  
**BIceps** : if the plan isn’t how to get hongjoong hyung to grow the mullet back i don’t care  
**parkWooyoung** : oh no not this again  
**BIceps** : I MISS IT SO MUCH???? NO ONE UNDERSTANDS MY PAIN  
**oyouknow** 🐻: hongjoong had a mullet?  
**sandbar** : oh no  
**parkWooyoung** : oh no  
**sk8rboi** : trap card activated  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : yeosang sdhf  
**BIceps** : I FORGOT YUNHO HYUNG WASN’T HANGING AROUND WHEN HYUNG HAD THE MOST I C O N I C HAIRSTYLE OF OUR GENERATION  👌 👌 👌 👌 👌 👌 👌 👌  
**BIceps** : HOLD ON I NEED YOU TO APPRECIATE  
**sandbar** : mute the gc now folks  
**BIceps** :

  
**BIceps** : IT WAS BEAUTIFUL AND IT WAS TAKEN FROM US TOO SOON  
**oyouknow** 🐻: HWAT T HJE FUKC  
**oyouknow** 🐻: HOW DOES HE LOOK SO GOOD IM GOING TO PISS  
**oyouknow** 🐻:  
   
**sandbar** : nice now there’s two of them  
**oyouknow** 🐻: LISTEN  
**sandbar** : we’re listening bitchboy  
**oyouknow** 🐻: ….  
**oyouknow** 🐻: blocked  
**sandbar** : wait no unblock me i need to tell you something ):  
**oyouknow** 🐻: fine unblocked  
**sandbar** : bitch  
**oyouknow🐻 has kicked sandbar from the chat  
** **sk8rboi** : god has abandoned us  
**parkWooyoung** : it’s what we deserve  
**TheMostBeautifulMan™** : jongho is literally crying at a picture of hongjoong on his phone?????  
**oyouknow** 🐻: @BIceps send it to me  
**BIceps** : done

 

**\------------------------**

 

They’re walking back from getting convenience store kimbap when Hongjoong stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “Hey, Yunho, can I say something that’s probably going to freak you out?”

“Um,” Yunho blinks, “Sure, go for it.”

“In the interest of being totally honest,” Hongjoong goes so visibly tense it activates Yunho's own fight or flight response just by proximity. “I still like you." Yunho wheezes. "I know I said I wouldn’t do anything to mess up our friendship and I still mean that, I do, but it’s not going away and I haven’t figured out how to stop.” He kicks a pebble off the edge of the cement. “I didn’t think it would be fair to you if I kept that a secret. Sorry.”

“No—”

“Anyway, I know Mingi is due back next month so I've already got an apartment for myself lined up and I can finally be out of your hair,” Hongjoong grins up at him. “Thank you for letting me crash in his place for a while.”

“Hyung, that’s not—”  
  
Hongjoong waves a hand in front of his face. “You don’t have to say anything, it’s alright, I just wanted you to be aware. Let’s get back, yeah?”

As if he didn’t just drop a fucking bomb on Yunho’s head, Hongjoong takes another bite from his rice and tuna mixture easy-as-you-please before setting off at a sedate pace back in the direction they started. It’s only when Hongjoong yells back “Come on slowpoke!” that Yunho snaps out of his stupor to follow.

They don’t talk for the rest of the walk home (mostly because Yunho's brain is feeding him a continuous line of white noise and giddy squealing) and Hongjoong, once again, locks his door.

 

**\------------------------**

 

Hongjoong continues to avoid any and all interaction for the next _week_ . The Mingi groupchat goes unanswered, his texts get left on read, and, if not for the daily dad joke post-it on the front door, Yunho would say Hongjoong is _mad_ at him. In a fit of desperation he sends a text to San voicing his complaints but only receives a snarky, ‘ _well what did you expect? you rejected him first and then you didn’t even say anything to his second confession dumbfuck'_  back.

Yunho doesn’t want to reject him. Yunho wants to kiss his stupid pretty face (over facetime San mimes gagging, “Sick!”).

Friday night Yunho decides he’s had enough of Hongjoong’s cold shoulder treatment and attempts to stay up on the couch waiting for him to come home so they can finally talk and clear the air. Also maybe they could hold hands for a while? Yeah. The plan fails spectacularly because the stress of the week catches up fast, between one action flick and a sappy romance queued up on his Netflix account, Yunho falls asleep. He wakes up to a post-it with a smiley face attached to his forehead and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Mingi laughs so hard he loses his voice when Yunho finally gives in and confesses his problems at whatever hour it is in America on Saturday morning. He keeps the details vague—god help him if his best friend ever found out about Yunho’s infatuation with Mingi _himself —_but Mingi’s only advice is to stop being a coward and speak directly to Hongjoong. Except for the fact that Yunho has tried that and it’s _not working_.

Yunho uses his nuclear option Saturday afternoon when Hongjoong still hasn’t made an appearance from his locked bedroom.

Seonghwa has to hand the phone over to Yeosang before he ruins the electronics with his tears (“I’m just so happy for them, Sang-ah!” “I know, hyung, now give me the phone.” Yunho rolls his eyes at the blurring image of them rubbing noses in a vomit inducing eskimo kiss).

Together, the three of them hatch a plan.

 

****\------------------------** **

 

**YUNHO IS DUMB AND GAY SQUAD**

  
**oyouknow🐻** : gc name aside ive been meaning to ask   
**oyouknow🐻** : why is it 'park' wooyoung and not 'jung' wooyoung  
**sk8rboi** : because he’s thirsty for park jimin's schlong  
**parkWooyoung** : i mean,,,youre not wrong  
**BIceps** : oof  
**oyouknow🐻** : lmao how’s it feel to play second fiddle to a kpop boy san  
**sandbar** : idk hows it feel to be ignored by your crush  
**BIceps** : OOF  
**oyouknow🐻** : i  
**oyouknow🐻** : hurtful???????

 

**\------------------------**

 

“This is a really dumb idea, I just want to put that out there,” San tells him seriously even as he unrolls another line of crepe party streamer.

“Probably,” Yunho sticks his tongue out to concentrate on taping another disturbingly neon pink balloon to Hongjoong’s bedroom wall. “Hongjoong-hyung is, like, 85% of my impulse control at this point and since he’s not speaking to me we’re doing this.”

“That’s a damn lie and you know it. Neither one of you knows what ‘impulse control’ even _means_.”

“Hey,” Yunho pouts. “I know what impulse control means.”

“Do you? Do you really, Mr. Mint Hair?”

“...Listen.”

“No.”

Wooyoung claps his hands clean of errant rose petals. “Think this’ll work?”

“Dunno but I have to try _something_ ,” Yunho’s cheeks pink even as his heartbeat stutters at the prospect of failure.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s cute!” Wooyoung rests his head against San’s shoulder. “Why don’t you ever do something like this for me, San-ie?”

“Because romance is dead,” San tells him in monotone before ruining the effect with a short, smacking kiss to Wooyoung’s nose.

“Knock it off you two,” Yunho checks his watch for the nth time before standing back to admire their handiwork. “Seonghwa should be texting me any minute to let me know they’re on the way, help me light the candles.”

Their plan consists of every cliche romantic overture crammed into one space which happens to be Hongjoong’s bedroom. There are rose petals scattered enticingly from the front door to the hallway to the edge of his mattress; not that Yunho expects anything, good lord, but it’s what all the movies do.  Scented candles are going to be lit strategically along the rose petal path. Best of all—Yunho thinks he’s a certified genius for this one—an exploding volcano made of crepe paper hung on the wall spewing bright pink balloons and ‘I LAVA YOU’ in sparkly gold letters underneath.

It’s _perfect_.

Now all he has to do is wait.

The waiting turns into anxious pacing while San and Wooyoung take turns clowning him for it.

“Right, I can do this.” Yunho takes one look at the two perched on his sofa and spins right back around, “I can’t do this, oh my god!”

“Relax, Yunho, you’ll be fine. You already know you like each other.” Wooyoung tries to reason with him. “Stop pacing or you’ll make yourself sick.”

Seonghwa texts him ten minutes later to let him know they’re less than five minutes away and Yunho kicks his house guests out with a muttered, “I’ll text you when it’s done, go away now” and slams the door before making a mad dash to light any remaining candles. He pauses in front of the mirror in their bathroom to run a hand through his hair in a futile bid at getting the mad tangle to cooperate before giving up and taking his place in the middle of Hongjoong’s room.

He waits.  
  
Finally, the door chime dings and Yunho’s heart jumps into his _throat_. He can just barely make out the quiet, “What the fuck?” Hongjoong whispers before the slow steps of his hyung following the trail to his room. He's going to pass out. Yunho is going to have a _stroke_ and _die_ before Hongjoong even touches the door handle and—

Hongjoong is standing in the middle of the doorway gaping. "Yunho, what—what is all this?"

"Um," Yunho fidgets with the ring he keeps on his finger. "Surprise?"

He watches in fascination as Hongjoong takes in the room—the petals, the candles, the incredibly well thought out and brilliant volcano pun taking up most of his wall—and slowly turns red from the tips of his ears down to the collarbones peeking from beneath a low cut sweater. His fingers curl into the sleeves, tiny frame shuddering as he takes in the so-super-great-awesome-good-job-Yunho pun on the wall. "Are you serious right now?"

"As a heart attack, hyung." Yunho bites his lips. "I wanted to tell you last week but you kept avoiding me so. Here we are," He spreads his arms wide. "I lava you."

“I can’t decide which I want to do more, punch you or kiss you.”

Breathing is getting a little hard to regulate with how fast he's doing it but Yunho manages to get out, "Can I pick?"

"Absolutely not," Hongjoong is still crimson but he's smiling so hard the dimples in his cheeks appear deeper than the Mariana Trench. "You're a terrible decision maker."

As if he's approaching a particularly skittish deer, Yunho slowly toes his way forward across the room, "I'm totally fine with you making all the decisions, you know."

"You're not getting off that easy, this is still a team effort," Hongjoong meets him in the middle and digs his fingers in tight against Yunho's belt loops. "This isn't a joke, right? You have to tell me if it is because I really am about to kiss y—"

The rest of his sentence is swallowed up by Yunho leaning down to press their mouths together chaste. A sweet press of lips that doesn't go anywhere, just a kiss for the simple pleasure of kissing. Hongjoong lets out a low keening noise before stepping closer and slants their mouths at a better angle. Yunho doesn't go far when they eventually separate, only far enough that he can lean his forehead against Hongjoong's and sneak a quick peck against the straight slope of his nose. "Did that feel like a joke to you?"

Hongjoong breathes a tremulous, "No," and they're off to the races again. 

The groupchat goes unanswered for several hours.

 

**\--------------------**

 

**Sad Bitches Anonymous**

**BIceps** : YUNJOONG NATION RISE  
**BIceps** : WE MADE IT  
**BIceps** : @minki  
**BIceps** : @minki  
**BIceps** : @minki  
**minki** : IM CRYIGN  
**minki** : JONGHO I LOVE YOU  
**BIceps** : …..wait what now  
**minki** : FUCK

**Author's Note:**

> as always you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/AerClassic/)  
> <3


End file.
